Genius, Remember?
by Rainstorm Amaya Arianrhod
Summary: Pavel Chekov, growing up abruptly, Hikaru Sulu, nothing if not patient, and Jim Kirk, preciptating matters.


**A/N:** My first Star Trek fic, and I've only seen the 2009 film and know next to nothing else about the series, so this could be a really, _really_ horrible mistake. *nervous grin* Um, _**please read and review?**_

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**i.**

He only sleeps with Jim Kirk once.

It's totally understandable. It makes perfect sense. The logic is flawless, as Commander Spock would say. After that day from hell, the fear and barely controlled panic, the fight on the drill, the stress of nearly dying, Olson _actually_ dying, Kirk jumping into thin air to save him, the sting of Kirk's horrified look when he says he's a trained fencer appeased by the respect on Kirk's face when he kills the Romulans, the pain of lost colleagues, the need to soothe the conflicted, broken look on Chekov's too-young face and the bitter knowledge that he cannot... well, after all that, Hikaru Sulu, pilot, unruffled by anything but the embarrassment of having Spock tell him how to do his job, finds himself leaning against a white cold wall and shaking, too weak to stand, his head spinning.

Sulu closes his eyes to steady himself, and then he opens them again, and there is Jim Kirk, standing just outside his personal space. Kirk is cut about, grimy, and bruised; his full lips are set in a neutral line, his dirty gold hair messy, his assassin-black shirt and trousers blood-spattered.

And when he comes just a little closer and cups Sulu's jaw in his hand and offers to give him a few hours' comfort, Sulu accepts and is grateful. In a strange way, it means nothing, his captain's hands on him, his lips and fingers taking Sulu beyond knowing anything, into a little piece of perfection; the whispered words, the _not your fault_ and _easy, Hikaru, easy_ and _it's gonna be okay, promise_; the way Jim holds him afterwards while he cries, the sticky, sweaty sheets kicked away from them, and then kisses his forehead and leaves him to sleep. It means nothing because both of them can deny that there's anything between them with a clear conscience, because this is just comfort, just a little time when Hikaru gets to be looked after for a change. It means nothing because he sees Jim do the same for so many, seeking out the lonely and the broken, a hug for Nurse Chapel, a bone-melting kiss for McCoy in a dark corner and a teasing, provocative comment to bring out the grumpy bastard the whole ship knows and loves, a cunningly arranged break for Spock and Uhura to share, a slow makeout session with Gaila, half an hour spent kneeling on the floor, cuddling a sobbing xenobiologist Hikaru doesn't know to his chest. Even Chekov spends the night with him, and Sulu pretends he doesn't know.

At the same time as it means nothing, this means everything, because it means that Sulu is working for a captain he is proud to serve under, one who considers his crew above himself and who is genuinely compassionate. Still, the captain has no-one to do this for him, and so Sulu extracts a bottle of villainous hooch from Scotty and takes it to Jim Kirk's quarters. Three glasses in, Jim tells him everything, and he lets Jim rest his heavy head in his lap and close his eyes while he talks, and Sulu's hand runs through that thick hair, strokes the forehead that already has worry lines on it, wipes the tears away with his thumb.

It nearly turns into sex again. Sulu stops that; that's going too far. Instead, he puts the captain to bed, goes in search of McCoy, and tells him everything. This is known as passing the buck.

**ii.**

The road to hell is paved with good intentions, apparently. Three months on, poor bloody Chekov's schoolkid crush on Jim is getting too obvious for either Hikaru or Jim to ignore. In another month's time the Enterprise will be ready to leave, and this will just make things unbearably awkward. It could break Chekov's career in Starfleet.

For God's sake, _Pavel_. Hikaru has always thought he wasn't ready for Starfleet, he was too young. He was brilliant, Hikaru couldn't deny it, incredibly, ridiculously clever and he excelled at everything he really put his mind to, but he was much too naive, and he could get positively starry-eyed around Jim.

He didn't understand that what Jim had offered him had been a one-time thing, an episode of comfort he was meant to take at face value, a time without fear. Nothing deeper; that would be unethical, and Hikaru got the impression that whatever rules Jim Kirk was willing to break, among them were not fraternisation regulations. Technically, he'd already smashed them to pieces, but that had been just comfort. It belonged only to those stunned, bereaved days between Nero's defeat and their return to Earth, where they'd been treated like heroes. (His parents had been so proud.)

Only Pavel had to take it seriously, the way he did everything. Pavel had to get serious.

Fuck it, Pavel. Only you.

**iii.**

Hikaru thinks that maybe he's a bit jealous that Pavel doesn't want him. After all, Pavel is Hikaru's to look after, explain things to, and rescue from the security officers who think making fun of the clever comms officer and the fact that he barely knows which way is up when it comes to more adult social interaction is funny.

Pavel, bloody Pavel, with his huge intelligent innocent blue eyes and the short, light brown, immaculate curls, and his accent, which gives him so much trouble with the voice recognition software and which Hikaru has teased him for so many times but secretly thinks is... Not sweet. _Not sweet_. Hikaru _refuses _to believe that he thinks anything about any fellow officer is sweet.

Endearing, then- yes, endearing, that's the word. Pavel and his accent are endearing. And he's Hikaru's. It's just that that seems to have passed Pavel by, and all right, Hikaru can see that he's more than just a bit jealous, but, still...

Oh, Pavel, you stupid, stupid, _stupid_ kid.

**iv.**

A week later, Hikaru's had enough. He goes straight to Jim, because this is his fault, even though he never meant it to happen.

Jim puts on his Captain Kirk hat and has an uncomfortable discussion with Pavel in a room where Scotty has briefly disabled the security cameras. Pavel comes out looking crushed, and walks straight into Hikaru's hand clapping on his shoulder in wordless comfort and steering him back to Hikaru's room for a glass of applejack with a serious kick to it (Scott's other contribution to this, ah, enterprise, and where he got the apples Hikaru doesn't want to know.) Pavel does not cry. He just sits on Hikaru's couch, feet drawn up onto the cushions and resting his chin on his knees, and says quietly that he understands now, that Keptin Kirk has been wery kind in explaining to him.

The accent is out in full force; Hikaru hasn't heard it this bad for months, when Pavel was feeling very, very homesick, and knows that it's not a good sign. Also, there is an unhappy twist to Pavel's mouth that he just wants to kiss away, but he knows that that would be a bad move, that he has to wait if he wants this to work, and oh God he does. He doesn't just want to be half of a rebound relationship.

He's a patient man. He'll wait.

**v.**

Hikaru knows that the crush on Jim is over when Jim, dazed, swollen and covered in purple blotches from his thirty-second allergen - the one they discovered about thirty seconds ago when he started eating the Orion canapés which looked and tasted like cheese puffs but plainly weren't - throws up all over Pavel.

Pavel gives him an appalled look, and says: "Thenks a _lot_, Keptin!"

Jim grins, mumbles something about "all part of the service, Chekov", and spews a little more. McCoy growls and jabs a hypospray into Jim's neck, and the captain's eyes roll up in his head, he trills "Ooh, the pretty _colours_," and falls forward. Pavel skips neatly backwards. Hikaru catches Jim, and hoists him over his shoulders, which is not easy; the captain weighs a ton.

"Sickbay," McCoy says grimly, and sets off.

Hikaru staggers after him.

**vi.**

It takes another year for Hikaru to decide that the time to satisfy the unresolved sexual tension between him and Pavel is now, and one night after they've finished their game of chess (Pavel has won, inevitably, but it took him about forty-five minutes longer than it used to) Hikaru leans over and brushes Pavel's lips gently with his own.

Pavel just sits there and looks at him for a second, and Hikaru would be worried except that he knows Pavel liked it, knows he felt Pavel's lips parting under his.

Well. He is worried. But he stops being worried when Pavel gives him this huge, glorious smile and gets up, steps round to his side of the table and reaches out his hands and pulls Hikaru up until they're standing flush against each other, and- Pavel's not a bad kisser for a naive genius. In fact, he's really, really good, and Hikaru is loving this, Pavel in his arms with his tongue in Hikaru's mouth and enjoying himself very much, showing the same kind of enthusiasm for something he understands that he does to every chess game and that he did when he ran down the corridors of the _Enterprise_ yelling "I can do zat! I can do zat!", shoved the transport chief out of his seat, and rescued Hikaru and Jim without blinking an eyelid.

"This is worth it," he breathes when he can, and Pavel looks at him, puzzled.

"Worth waiting for years," he elaborates, "worth watching you crush on Kirk, worth beating up security officers for you, worth worrying about you all the time and never saying it out loud."

"All zat time?" Pavel asks, and Hikaru nods, and there's a spark in Pavel's eyes that says he understands.

Of course he does. Genius, remember?


End file.
